How Do I Love Thee?
by Tarma Hartley
Summary: Miles' birthday is coming up and Phoenix is having trouble finding the perfect gift. What do you get the guy who has practically everything? As Phoenix learns, however, the perfect gift doesn't come from a store but from the heart. Teen, PxE, Oneshot


Phoenix is having a tough time trying to come up with the perfect birthday gift for Miles and he only has one day to try and think of something. The quandry is this: what _do_ you get the guy who has practically everything? As Phoenix will learn, the best gifts don't come from a store but from the heart.

Something very different from my usual fare: pure, unadulterated fluff. :) I hope you enjoy it! :) This was also a birthday gift fic to a friend of mine who celebrated her birthday yesterday and I hope she liked it! :)

**Thank you** to my betas for their great work, as always! :) **Thank you** to my wonderful husband who's love and support I'm very grateful for to help keep me grounded.** Thank you** to **ALL** my wonderful readers as well! :) **Thank you** for enjoying my stories and I hope that they will continue to be enjoyed!

I hope that you will enjoy this oneshot and, as always, comments and suggestions are welcomed and appreciated! :)

Poem "Sonnets from the Portuguese" (#43) by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

Teen, Romance, Phoenix & Edgeworth

--o--

It was at breakfast that Saturday morning when the seed of an idea came to me for the perfect birthday gift for Miles. His birthday was tomorrow and I was hard-pressed to come up with something I knew that he would like in order to fill out the rest of his birthday gifts. I had already bought him some books and a silver tea service but I wanted to round them out with something else.

_It was hard_, I reflected, a sour grimace on my face as I stared into the remains of my coffee, moving the mug slowly in absentminded circles, _to get a gift for the guy who has practically everything on the planet._

I sighed as I sat back in the breakfast nook chair, a very comfortable high backed mahogany. When I had time-which wasn't often during the week-I liked to come out and sit here, enjoying my morning coffee while gazing appreciatively at the garden on the left side of the house.

_Miles certainly has the talent to create a beautiful work of art_, I mused, a smile slowly spreading across my face as I looked out of the window into the rock garden. _I have the proverbial 'black thumb' when it comes to gardening so I'll happily leave the work to those who know what they're doing. _I chuckled softly at the mental image. _Plants wilt when I pass by them!_

I took a sip of coffee, sighing in pleasure as the fragrant liquid coursed down my throat, a pleasant tingling sensation remaining on my taste buds. I appreciated Miles' gourmand tastes. Normally, I often teased him about it but on a day like today, it was a definite advantage.

I never knew where Miles bought the coffee-he refused to tell me saying that it was a "_closely guarded family secret_," whatever _that_ meant-but I enjoyed drinking it, nonetheless even if Miles chose to be mysterious as to where he bought it from. I reasoned that if Miles wanted to keep the location where he bought the coffee a secret, I was perfectly fine with that since I really enjoyed the dark, roasted flavor of the premium Columbian blend.

I knew that his preference went to tea but he also enjoyed a good cup of dark roast once in awhile. He often drank it in the morning to give him a much needed jolt of caffeine to start his working day, switching to tea at noon and enjoyed another dark cup at the end of the day. It was a routine I knew like clockwork and in the five years having lived with him, it never once changed.

I was so deep in thought that I didn't hear Miles come padding into the room and I nearly jumped out of my skin when he planted a gentle kiss on the back of my neck, almost spilling my coffee in the process.

I whirled around in my chair and glared at him as he padded by, a smirk gracing his handsome features as he walked into the kitchen to the cupboard above the sink, opened it, took out a mug and poured coffee into it.

He arched an elegant eyebrow at the sour look on my face, his lips curving into a sensual smile under the lip of the mug as he slowly sipped the hot, fragrant brew, his eyes closing in pleasure. I slumped in the chair, thoroughly annoyed with my lover but unwilling to give him the satisfaction of openly complaining about it first.

_I refuse to give him the satisfaction_, I thought crossly, ignoring him as I took a few more sips of coffee. I started to feel sadistically pleased though as Miles' other eyebrow worked its way up in inquiry, the corners of his mouth twitching. _Jerk._

After a few moments more of silence, Miles broke the tension by walking over to me and kissing the back of my neck once again, very gently, giving me a parting nibble as he sauntered by, his fingertips gently brushing my arm. He took a seat across from me, placing his coffee cup down on the Formica table top with a faint clink, picked up the morning paper and started to read the front page.

I sat there, a stunned and confused expression on my face, a little shiver rippling through me from Miles' love nibble on the back of my neck. It was amazing how quickly my bad mood melted away, leaving a silly grin plastered across my face, a slight blush rising in my cheeks.

I looked across the table and was surprised to see a smile on Miles' face, chuckling softly as he lifted his grey eyes, glimmering with mischief, over the top of the newspaper to look into my surprised blue ones. He winked and went back to reading the story on the front page about the latest case that was baffling the authorities.

I chuckled, nursing my coffee with renewed enthusiasm as I sat back with a happy sigh. It was going to be a good day.

XXX

I gave Miles a goodbye kiss and hug at the door as he walked out which he enthusiastically and warmly returned. He said that he had some work he needed to catch up on at the Prosecutor's Office and that, regretfully, that he would be gone for most of the day and there was a good possibility that he may even be there as late as midnight or later.

I was disappointed, I will admit, that I wouldn't have the pleasure of his company; on the other hand, I was glad that he wouldn't be around so I could come up with an idea for his birthday gift without him finding out.

I whistled a happy tune as I cleared the table, taking the breakfast dishes to the sink and putting them into the hot, soapy water I had filled the sink with before Miles left for work, humming as I rinsed the dishes and put them in the dish rack over the second sink.

After I had finished drying the dishes and put them away, I walked downtown in order to do some last minute birthday shopping for Miles. Along the way, I picked up some dry cleaning that I had dropped off three days before and then made my way to the bakery to pick up some Napoleons, cannoli and Miles' birthday cake.

Upon returning home from my shopping excursion, I deposited the Napoleons in the snack cupboard and his birthday cake in the far back of the refrigerator; making sure to put some items in front of it to make sure that it remained hidden until tomorrow.

After I had finished putting away the dry cleaning in the bedroom and hanging up my suits, I walked into the back room near the east corner of the house that served as my private office away from work and opened the locked closet door.

I rummaged around on the first shelf, grinning with satisfaction as I pulled out a small ivory colored box along with an assortment of nib pens and a box full of different colors of ink and carried them to a large desk by the window across from the couch.

I opened the ivory colored box and took out a thick piece of cream-colored parchment paper, covered delicately in a soft white dishtowel. I unwrapped the delicate package carefully, trying not to smudge the colored ink drawings that graced the front of the page.

After a quick check to make sure that none of the ink had either smudged or bled through the back, I was happy to see that it hadn't, I placed it carefully on the desk and arranged the ink bottles to my satisfaction, laying the different nibbed pens next to the parchment.

I unscrewed the caps off of all the ink bottles, smiling happily at the jewel-colored tones of red, blue, violet, black, orange, yellow, brown and green that seemed to twinkle in the soft sunlight that filtered through the thick red curtains. They were absolutely beautiful and perfect for the purpose I had in mind.

_This is going to be perfect_, I thought happily as I sat down and picked up a thin nibbed pen from the bunch that lay on the table next to my hand, dipped it in the violet ink, tapped it carefully against the lip of the bottle to get rid of any excess ink and colored in a letter with thick swirls at both ends. _Miles is going to be so surprised!_

I'd been working on what I termed '_My Secret Project_' for nearly eleven months and it hadn't been an easy task keeping it from Miles. Twice he had nearly caught me red-handed by walking in when I wasn't quite finished putting away all my ink bottles and pens but in both cases I had managed to keep my secret by some clever last minute dodging. I was really never quite sure if he ever believed my excuses, but he never argued so I figured it was enough.

I knew Miles' curiosity was eating him alive and I was very happy that I was nearly finished with my project. Eighteen pieces of parchment paper later-and a few bottles of ink that needed to be replaced because I managed to upend a few bottles onto the floor and spent the next four hours trying to get the vivid green ink out of the carpet before Miles came back-and Miles' surprise birthday gift was almost complete.

I hummed as I worked, the tip of my tongue pressing gently between my teeth. The sketches I had painstakingly made in pencil over the past eleven months were coming to brilliant life and, as I sat back and admired my artwork, I was very proud of what I had created and I hoped that he liked it, as well.

A few hours later and it was complete. Now I just had to let the ink dry for awhile and then re-wrap it and put it away in its box. Seeing how Miles was going to be working late tonight and quite possibly until after midnight, it wouldn't be a problem and I could put it away once the ink was dry at my leisure.

I wiped the pen nibs dry with a soft black washcloth that I had commandeered strictly for this purpose, before I gathered the pens together in a bunch and put them to the side. I put the lids back on the ink bottles, put them neatly back into their box, tucking the pens in beside them before putting the lid back on the box and pushing it down to ensure a snug fit.

Once I had made certain that the lid of the box was on tightly and securely, I put them back in their proper place in the closet and shut the door firmly, locking it and putting the key neatly away in the drawer in the desk and closing it quietly.

I stood back and looked at the work of art that lay on the desk, it's vivid colors shining brightly and my breath caught over how beautiful it looked, particularly when illuminated by the afternoon sun. I felt justifiably proud of the work that I had created for the one I loved more than anyone else in the world and I hoped that he would love it as much in receiving it as I did in making it.

I glanced up at the clock over the doorway and saw it was now three o'clock in the afternoon. I figured that the ink needed at least five hours to dry completely so I went to the kitchen to prepare some instant coffee and a light snack and carried both into the library and set them down on a night table next to an overstuffed chair.

I walked over to the bookshelf that lined the wall on the left side of the room, my fingers running lightly over the soft leather of the leather-bound volumes that Miles loved so much and was so proud of. I smiled as I felt the buttery-soft leather pass underneath my fingertips before I found what I was looking for.

I pulled a thick leather-bound volume, with different colored swirls making up the title of the book from the shelf and walked over to the chair and sat down, opening up the book with reverence.

My lips mouthed the words printed in beautiful black ink on the thick cream-colored pages of the book of poetry that Miles had given me for my birthday last year and that I had been sadly remiss in reading for the past six months.

I enjoyed my coffee, my pastry and immersion in the literary delights of the great masters and it was in this manner I passed the next six hours until I heard the grandfather clock in the corner of the library chime.

I glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that it was now nine o'clock and, with a sigh of regret, closed the book, put it back in it's niche in the bookshelf, and walked out of the library, carrying both my plate and mug to the sink where I put them before walking back into my private office.

As I had hoped, the ink was bone dry when I gingerly touched it with my fingertip and I smiled in satisfaction as I wrapped it gently in its white dishcloth and placed it along with Miles' other gifts in the back of the walk-in closet in the bedroom.

It would rest there until tomorrow afternoon when I would place it in the frame I had chosen and give it to him along with the rest of his gifts at his birthday celebration that evening.

_I hope he likes it_, I thought as I walked back into the kitchen, _I really hope he likes it._

XXX

The next morning came all too quickly upon me since Miles didn't make it home until three o'clock, going straight to bed after he managed a weary buss upon my lips and collapsed into bed without bothering to even undress first.

I blearily climbed into bed beside him and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. When I woke-or rather, was awoken without my permission by Maya-at seven, I entertained thoughts of mayhem and murder where my erstwhile assistant was concerned as I padded sleepily into the kitchen to make the morning coffee.

When Miles grumpily joined me after making a point to glare at Maya, which she cheerfully ignored, I pressed a mug of steaming hot coffee into his hand, taking big gulps of my own, hoping that it would help to wake me up in time to prevent Miles from killing her.

_Not that I can really blame him._

He looked tired and it didn't help that his usually immaculately pressed suit was rumpled from having been slept in. His black vest had more wrinkles than a Shar Pei and he looked like he hadn't had a decent sleep in months, judging from the dark circles under his eyes. I made a mental note to remind him that he had vacation days coming up and that he should make a point to make use of them.

Maya chattered away in her cheerful manner and I wondered, for what seemed to be the millionth time this year, exactly where she found the energy this early in the morning. Miles and I stood there, bleary-eyed, cross and tired, wishing fervently that she would get to the point of why she had come over so early this morning and why she hadn't called first.

Usually, when she or Pearls wanted to come over to see us, one or the other called first just in case we had any plans for that day or evening. It was a good system and it worked very well but now, as she stood there chattering away a mile a minute, I wondered why she had just barged in without the official phone call first.

It hadn't occurred to her-until she took a really close look at the both of us-that we might have had a late night. I informed her that Miles hadn't gotten home from the office until three o'clock that morning and I was waiting up for him when he arrived as I always did, no matter how late it was when he came home.

She looked very embarrassed once I had shared that little nugget of information with her and apologized profusely before she departed, saying that she would call us later before closing the door firmly behind her. After she had left, Miles and I both looked at each other, shrugged and padded back into the bedroom and clambered back into bed.

XXX

We awoke at four o'clock that afternoon, feeling rested and refreshed. After a quick lunch, we met up with Maya and Pearls at Wright & Co. Law Offices promptly at six where we were treated to a movie and some ice cream by the girls in honor of Miles' birthday.

It was a surprise-in more ways than one-but a very nice one and Miles thanked them profusely for their thoughtfulness and generosity. Of course,_ I_ was the one who had had to pay for this treat but I didn't mind; seeing how happy this made Miles was more important to me and I didn't voice a single complaint.

Miles generously invited them over to partake in a piece of birthday cake, an offer which they happily-and with many squeals of joy-accepted. We sang "Happy Birthday" as I brought the birthday cake to the table and set it down in front of him.

The girls kept on hollering for Miles to make a wish so he leaned forward, closed his eyes and blew out the birthday candles in one puff, a feat which earned our generous applause and a little bit of ribbing about 'hot air' which he took with his usual aplomb. He ignored us.

I handed Miles the cake knife to cut his cake with which he did, quickly and expertly. I watch with undisguised humor as Miles placed a very large slice on a plate and handed to Maya, who was drooling noticeably. I snickered as I watched her dig into the cake with gusto while Miles continued to cut slices and put them on the waiting colorful paper plates I'd picked up for the occasion on my shopping trip the day before.

I picked up my own plate and fork and, cutting a large piece of my slice with a mischievous smile, held it out to Miles. With a wide grin, he leaned forward, opened his mouth and took the offered treat. Maya made a sour face while Pearls looked completely confused. The looks on both of their faces was simply priceless and we started to laugh; it was near impossible not to.

General merriment continued for the next two hours as Maya, Pearls and I all gave Miles his birthday gifts. Miles' eyes shone with happiness as he opened his gifts one by one: a pen and pencil set from Pearls, a certificate to Miles' favorite restaurant from Maya (and me. I was the silent partner) and, from me, a silver tea service (with three tins of his favorite blends of tea), a book of poems by Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson, both bound in leather and a stuffed bear that held both books of poetry in its arms.

He swallowed hard and looked at the three of us as we stood around him with me hovering anxiously over his shoulder although I needn't have worried. His bright smile and shining eyes told me everything I needed to know and I relaxed considerably as he opened his birthday cards and read them aloud to us.

After finishing all the gifts and card Miles looked at each one of us in turn, a bright smile gracing his face. "Thank you...Thank you very much. I love my gifts."

We smiled warmly back at him as Maya turned to cut another piece of cake for herself and Pearls while I discreetly disappeared into the bedroom to retrieve the one gift I hadn't yet given Miles: the poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Sonnet to the Portuguese" that I had worked very hard on for the past eleven months to bring to a vivid, colorful life in the style of a medieval Book of Hours in beautiful calligraphic script.

I took out the ornate gilt frame that I had chosen to put the completed work in and within a few minutes, the piece was snuggled tightly and neatly into its permanent home. After this was done, I put the framed piece in a small plastic bag and walked back into the kitchen where I found Miles discussing with Maya about what kinds of cake she liked and Pearls was enthusiastically devouring another piece of cake.

Maya was the first to see me come into the kitchen and noted that I was holding a plastic bag.

"What's in the bag, Nick?" she asked curiously, leaning over to get a better look, Pearls following her example.

"It's a gift for Miles," I replied, holding the bag tightly in my hands as if I were afraid I'd drop it. "I left it for the last because it's something _very_ special."

Miles turned to look at me, his face wreathed in curiosity.

"What is it?" he asked.

I handed him the bag.

"Open it and see," I said mysteriously, a mischievous grin spreading across my face. Miles rolled his eyes but obediently opened the bag, taking the framed poem out, his mouth dropping open with surprise as he held it in front of him, Maya and Pearls doing the same as they got a good look at it.

The beautiful colors shone vibrantly through, the swirls and whorls on the first letters of every word and the beautiful artwork behind it made it a very exquisite piece. I knew the moment Miles looked at it that he really liked it and so did the girls, judging by the many expressions of awe they were making.

"This is a beautiful piece of art, Phoenix," Miles said appreciatively, turning it to the side to get a better look. "Where did you get this from?"

"Do you like it?" The question was a rather silly one since I already knew that he did but I wanted to hear it from him.

"I love it! It's absolutely beautiful, the colors are amazingly bright and vivid and the drawings are exquisite. Where did you manage to acquire such a beautiful piece from?"

I looked at the floor, blushing.

"I... I made it, Miles," I said quietly, almost embarrassed to admit it. "I... made it... for you..."

"You... made it?" he asked in astonishment, looking at the piece once again and then at me. "You... made this... for me?"

I nodded.

"Yeah. It took me eleven months and I went through eighteen pieces of parchment paper and a few bottles of ink but I finally got it. I knew that you liked Elizabeth Barrett Browning's poem, "Sonnets from the Portuguese," and medieval art so I decided to do that poem in calligraphic script on a background similar to a medieval Book of Hours." I looked at him. "I borrowed books on calligraphy and on Medieval manuscript art from the library and have been practicing for months, trying to get it just right."

Miles smiled warmly at me as he leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on my lips, his hand lingering gently on my shoulder.

"You succeeded admirably, Phoenix," he said softly, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "It's an exquisitely beautiful piece and I will treasure it always because it was made for me with love. Thank you for the most precious gift I could ever receive."

"What does it say, Mr. Edgeworth?" Maya asked, leaning over to try and get a better look at the piece.

Miles cleared his throat and read the poem so lovingly depicted:

"**How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.  
********I love thee to the depth and breadth and height**  
**My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight**  
**For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.**  
**I love thee to the level of everyday's**  
**Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.**  
**I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;**  
**I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.**  
**I love thee with a passion put to use**  
**In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.**  
**I love thee with a love I seemed to lose**  
**With my lost saints, -- I love thee with the breath,**  
**Smiles, tears, of all my life! -- and, if God choose,**  
**I shall but love thee better after death.**"

"That's beautiful, Nick," Maya said after a few moments of silence, awe in her voice, Pearls nodding in agreement. "I never knew you were so artistic."

Miles and I both chuckled at that as he wrapped his arms around me, hugging me close to him, nuzzling my neck playfully. Maya decided that now was the time for both she and Pearls to go home since it was getting late and quickly left, dragging a vigorously protesting Pearls with her.

Once they had gone, Miles turned back to look at me and kissed me on the mouth, doing a long and thorough job of it.

"Thank you, Phoenix, for the most wonderful present that I have ever received and for making my birthday a very special one."

"You're welcome," I replied, kissing his eyes and his forehead before moving down to his mouth. "I'm so glad that you like it. I was hoping you would."

"I do."

He leaned against me and I held him tightly, gently running my fingers through his hair.

"Happy Birthday, Miles," I said, breathing out the last word on his lips as mine met his once more. "Happy Birthday."


End file.
